


so long as we are dirty, we are pure

by bessemerprocess



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, Mud, Yuletide, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-04 14:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessemerprocess/pseuds/bessemerprocess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mud-pies gratify one of our first and best instincts. So long as we are dirty, we are pure." Charles Dudley Warner</p>
            </blockquote>





	so long as we are dirty, we are pure

**Author's Note:**

> justnukeit provided all the football facts, written for yuletide stocking stuffer.

"Mud-pies gratify one of our first and best instincts. So long as we are dirty, we are pure." Charles Dudley Warner

If he had been wearing tennis shoes, he might have been all right, but Aaron Hotchner wore suits to work, and dress shoes to match. Most days, this was a perfectly acceptable wardrobe choice. He looked professional, in charge, a stereotypical FBI Agent. Except today, his work had brought him to a muddy patch of woods in northern Wisconsin chasing after eighteen-year-old running back, Damon Holt. He'd slipped more then once, mud covered both shoes and the entire back of his body. The suit was ruined.

He slid into the clearing, knee buckling, just in time to see Morgan execute a perfect flying tackle and take down the unsub. This was good because Hotch was not getting up for a while. Prentiss and Reid trained their guns on the muddy pile of federal agent and suspect, as Rossi bent down to cuff the unsub. The cuffs went on, but Rossi went down, slipping in the mud. Thankfully, the local PD had shown up, detangled the unsub from the muddy agents, and hauled him off.

Prentiss was the first to notice that Hotch was down and was not getting up, and moved to help him up. Morgan moved in to help and between the two of them, they managed to get Hotch upright.

"You have mud in your hair," said Prentiss, who also had managed to get mud in her hair at some point during the chase.

Hotch looked down at his muddy suit and ruined shoes, "I think my dignity is back in the mud somewhere," he said with a wry grin, leaning on Morgan.

"Think you can make it back to the road?" asked Rossi, as he cam over to support Hotch's other side, "Or we can get the paramedics to carry you out."

Hotch groaned, "I think I'll try hobbling out. I don't need a gurney."

It was slow going. Reid and Prentiss walked in front, trying to identify any potential obstacles.

"Nothing else, that boy must have been a great football player on a wet field," commented Rossi.

"He had 3,326 rushing yards this year, 4.57 second 40 yard dash," interjected Reid, "He was supposed to be going to the University of Michigan next year. As I understand, that's good."

Morgan laughed, "That's really good, kid. If he hadn't been murdering girls, he'd be in the running for a Heisman in the next few years."

By the time they made it to the dirt road the ambulances were parked on, Hotch was pale, but still talking. "No more football player or track and field stars. My knees can't take too much of this," said Hotch as the EMTs slit his pant leg. His knee was slowly turning purple and swelling into an ugly knot.

"We're going to take you to the hospital, sir," explained the paramedic, "It doesn't look broken, but they'll want to take some x-rays."

"Fine," said Hotch and then sent his team off to shower and then regroup at police head quarters.

As the ambulance doors closed on him, Hotch could be heard to say, "They'll let me take a shower, right?"


End file.
